


Don’t Be Silly, Wrap Your Willie

by thisiswherethefishlives



Series: Prank War [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Bad Jokes, Condoms, M/M, Panic Attack, Pranks, THEY ARE EVERYWHERE, anxiety attack, awkwardly getting together, did i mention condoms?, everything is condoms and only some things hurt, so many condoms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-05
Updated: 2014-11-05
Packaged: 2018-02-24 06:57:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2572310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisiswherethefishlives/pseuds/thisiswherethefishlives
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fitz knows, deep down in the darkest corners of himself, that there is a confident, suave person. He’s seen glimpses of it from the corner of his eye - in the middle of an epiphany, or while verbally jousting with Mack, he knows that he isn’t 100% flailing, stuttering nerd.</p>
<p>Knowing that he can be smooth and in control is one thing, but it’s another thing entirely when his room has been decorated from floor to literal ceiling with condoms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don’t Be Silly, Wrap Your Willie

Fitz knows, deep down in the darkest corners of himself, that there is a confident, suave person. He’s seen glimpses of it from the corner of his eye - in the middle of an epiphany, or while verbally jousting with Mack, he knows that he isn’t 100% flailing, stuttering nerd.

Knowing that he can be smooth and in control is one thing, but it’s another thing entirely when his room has been decorated from floor to literal ceiling with condoms. Even in the midst of the hard stop his brain has imposed, Fitz can appreciate the effort that went into the prank; condoms blown into balloon animals, or simply filled with helium so that they rest against the ceiling, condoms stretched like cling wrap over every single one of his shoes, a strangely beautiful bouquet made entirely of condoms - the bright, foil wrappers arranged like so many petals.

So. Many. Condoms. One might say that it’s too many condoms. That One being Fitz himself. It’s like a Planned Parenthood exploded all over the place. There’s even a lifelike portrait of Fitz composed out of condoms - it’s quite the cunning likeness, he must admit.

He’s still processing the condom fiesta when a loud cheer followed by a series of flashes brings him back to reality. Standing in his peripheral are the rest of the team: Hunter, Sky, Tripp, and a smug-looking Mack. Even Jemma’s there, tucked almost out of sight behind Mack’s large frame, her usual sad smile replaced with a blinding grin.

Fitz can feel the heat rise in his face as any verbal reaction he could have had gets stuck between his teeth. He can only assume that the look on his face is somewhere on the border of stupefied and constipated, and this is only confirmed by the snickers and snorts coming ever so delicately from the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents arranged around his person. Their cameras are still flashing to capture the moment, and he’s fairly certain that Hunter is recording video for posterity.

"I didn’t realize you were so well prepared, Fitz," Hunter snarks into the camera before panning back to capture Fitz’s face in all its glory. "I personally feel much safer knowing that you’ll be shielding your rocket when it’s out of your pocket."

Laughing gleefully along, Skye takes a self-satisfied glimpse into the condomitorium formerly known as Fitz’s room.

"Looks like you’re got the right selection to wrap your erection!"

He can’t do much more than gape at them, red-faced and nervously giggling as they proceed to lay out bad condom joke after bad condom joke. It’s obviously a prank, and it isn’t a malicious one to be sure. It shouldn’t be freaking him out the way it is right now, but the nervous giggles are quickly turning into pained gasps and suddenly he can’t get enough air.

He can’t process this right now, can’t reason with himself - he just needs to breathe.

He has enough of his wits about him to retreat into his room, slamming and locking the door behind him. Sliding to the floor, the cool concrete sooths the raging, flushed heat that’s been simmering just under his skin. He can barely hear them on the other side of the door, but the concentration required to get his breathing back under control is enough to keep his focus off of them entirely.

By the time Fitz has composed himself it’s silent on the other side. He supposes that they will chalk it up to his being a poor sport, or see it as yet another example of how damaged he really is. Poor Fitz, can’t even take a joke anymore.

It’s less about the prank though, and more about how claustrophobic the experience became. How it became nearly impossible to catch his breath when he was surrounded on all sides. The joking and laughter morphing from amusing to overwhelming in a matter of seconds. It transported him back down to the ocean floor, calculating the odds of survival and choosing to die so that Jemma could live. It’s not something he likes to think back on often, but his physical reaction so closely mirrored the one he felt just as the water rushed in on him that he couldn’t help but lose control.

It’s a shame. This is the kind of prank he would have loved to take part in. He would have helmed it himself before. They had obviously spent a lot of time on this, and the variety of prophylactics is mind boggling. There are brands here that he had never heard of, eye-searing colors that he wishes he could un-see, and flavors that simultaneously whet his appetite and bring his blush back to full force.

It’s not like he’s some blushing virgin, not after that enlightening Summer spent at Engineering camp in Massachusetts. It had simply been a long time. You don’t exactly get a wealth of opportunities to gird your loin when working within a secret organization, and the past ten years he had spent pining after Jemma certainly didn’t help.

So no, it’s not like he’s some blushing virgin, it’s just a lot to take in. Speaking of a lot to take in…

"Oh, no. Now everything will be an innuendo," he grumbles to himself, head falling back against the door in defeat. The sound of his head repeatedly hitting the door doesn’t quite muffle the sound of someone shifting around on the other side.

"Hey Fitz, you still there, man?"

With a sigh, Fitz pulls himself to his feet in order to unlock the door before going to settle on his (condom covered) bed.

"You can come in if you want, Mack, though I’m not sure if you’ll be able to fit - what with the overabundance of latex."

The larger man’s laughter filters in as he opens the door and makes himself at home on the bed, waggling his eyebrows like a madman. “It’ll be a tight fit, Turbo, but I think we can make it work if we try really hard.”

Fitz can’t help but snort at the loaded comment as Mack reclines along the foot of the bed. His long, muscular frame looks touchable and soft in the dim lighting of the overhead lamp.

"Seriously though, are you alright?" The concern is palpable in Mack’s voice as he goes on, "I don’t know what set you off, but I want you to know that it wasn’t intentional."

This is exactly what Fitz was afraid of, so he cuts off any additional apologies with a wave of his hand.

"Don’t apologize, please Mack, it was a good joke. It was just… it was too - it was.." Gesturing with his hands, he tries to get the other man to understand.

"What… it was too much?"

Shaking his head, Fitz tries again.

"It made me feel -"

"Small? Scared? Claustrophobic? Cornered?"

"Yes!" Fitz yells with glee before backtracking, "No… go back one."

"It made you feel claustrophobic?"

"Yes," the tension drains out of Fitz’s frame now that he and Mack are once again on the same page. "It was too much, with the close, and the - and the… It was just too much. The prank was good though. A classic."

Leaning back against the headboard with a wan smile, Fitz takes the following lull in conversation as an opportunity to truly take in what his friends had done around the room. Mack must have noticed his wandering eyes, because he starts telling Fitz who among the group was responsible for what.

"Yeah, I was surprised too when Hunter turned up with the portrait. That’s a lot of artistic talent wasted on a merc. Don’t get me wrong, it’s creepy as Hell - the way the eyes follow you around the room is going to keep me up at night for weeks. Still impressive.

Tripp’s the one that insisted we cover the ceiling in dental dams, but that was only after Skye stole his idea to stuff your shoes into the condoms - don’t worry, Jemma made sure they were un-lubed before application.”

Fitz can’t help but chuckle at the pictures Mack paints with his words.

"Well, ah, what did Jemma do - other than protect my footwear from the dangers of lube?"

Mack snorted loudly before answering, “I was actually hoping that you could explain her obsession with getting you as many colors and flavors as possible… something about how you need to taste the rainbow?”

The mechanic must have noticed the rampant blush that Fitz could actively feel spread from his cheeks down over his chest, because he graciously dropped the subject and continued on with all the contributions that the team had made. Fitz will be having words with Jemma later. She should know better. They just don’t discuss The Event of ‘09.

Mack finished his inventory of the room sometime in the middle of Fitz’s horrific recollections. He’s quiet now, stretched opposite him on the bed, head propped on his arm and eyes closed. He isn’t asleep, just relaxed and peaceful looking. He’s absolutely beautiful - all dark skin glowing in the dim light, firm muscles expanding and contracting with each breath. Even his facial hair is gorgeous. It’s unfair.

It’s been months since Fitz truly came to terms with his attraction towards Mack. It’s just fact at this point that the other man is as gorgeous as he is kind - that he’s as sexy as he is staring back at him right now oh no that is not what was supposed to happen. Mack is actively staring back now and Fitz knows that the jig is up.

Clearing his throat and averting his eyes, Fitz fumbles for a segue that will help distract the other man from his all-too-apparent interest.

"So, uh. Hah! What were you responsible for?”

With a smirk, Mack sits up and leans forward towards Fitz, as if to touch him - but no, he reaches past to the desk. Grabbing the condom bouquet, the other man resumes his position so that he’s lying down again, playing with the foil petals.

Fitz can’t help but gulp nervously at the sinful picture that Mack makes, waiting for the other man to fill the silence while watching him fondle the condoms in his large hands.

"I’ve always been good with my hands," Mack explains, "and I took up origami awhile back - it helps me to clear my mind. So yeah, I thought you might get a kick out of a condom bouquet. Honestly though, I don’t suggest that you use these for practical purposes - you wouldn’t want to take any chances, what with all the folds and creases."

"Well, it’s a good thing we’ve got so many other options to choose from, eh?"

…

Time stands still as they both absorb what he just said. Fitz could kill his brain-to-mouth filter right about now.

"NOT that we would need - not that you and I… that you, Oh. God, please, please stop laughing."

Deflating at Mack’s barking laughter, Fitz firmly lodges his head underneath the closest pillow. This will be fine. Surely, he can stay under the pillow forever. Or die here. Nothing like some good old-fashioned asphyxiation to relieve a painful case of mortification.

Fitz doesn’t hear Mack as the other man shifts up the bed, but he does feel the bed settle as Mack stretches out next to him. A firm tug at the pillow leaves Fitz defenseless and vulnerable. His face has never burned so strongly of embarrassment before. It’s painful laying there waiting to be teased, or worse, told off. His little crush is suddenly a huge problem and Fitz is bracing himself for rejection - he’s halfway though composing his apology speech in his head when a banana flavored condom smacks him in the face.

"I’ll admit that I’ve never seen the allure of flavored condoms, but there’s something fantastic about the idea of a banana flavored blowjob. I think it would be a fun place to start."

Cheeks still burning, it’s all Fitz can do to nod in agreement.

"Okay, but we’re turning Hunter’s portrait around first."

_::Sexy Intermission::_

Hours later, Fitz finds himself cackling breathlessly into Mack’s bare, sweaty chest as he regales the scientist with the story of how they actually sourced all the contraceptive paraphernalia. They will never look at Agent Koenig the same way again.

**Author's Note:**

> Due to a prank, Fitz has an anxiety/panic attack (I apologize if I'm using the incorrect terminology) and then wallows for a bit - worried that his teammates will judge him because of his attack. It is implied that Fitz and Mack get sweaty and intimate but I don't go into the deets here. Also, some bad jokes. Bad jokes about condoms. Did I mention that there are a lot of condoms? No? So yeah, lots of condoms. I've never done this before so I apologize if I'm leaving important stuff out.


End file.
